


Sweater Chase

by consumed_by_veilfire



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7992121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumed_by_veilfire/pseuds/consumed_by_veilfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Senna Lavellan finds Solas asleep in the rotunda and takes the chance to steal his beloved sweater. A chase ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Chase

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure fluff. Enjoy :)

  She knew exactly what she was going to do when she caught Solas asleep in his armchair in the rotunda.

  Senna Lavellan had always loved Solas’s sweater. Sure, it may be worn as hell, but it was soft and warm, and she liked the way the flap on the back emphasized his bubble butt. She strolled into the rotunda early one morning with the intention of watching Solas paint the next part of his fresco, but the sight of Solas snoring softly brought her up short. He had obviously fallen asleep while researching, as there was a thick tome open on his desk covered in the scraps of parchment he took notes on. He had taken the time to remove his sweater, however, which lay folded neatly on the edge of the desk. Senna took a moment to admire his peaceful expression before grinning wickedly at her rapidly-forming plan.

  She crept over in her bare feet, silent as a fox, and, with one last glance at his face, snatched Solas’s sweater and tugged it over her head. It was a bit baggy on her, but that only made it more comfortable. She let out a little sigh, knowing this might be the only time she would be able to wear it. The flaps on the front and back nearly touched her feet, and the fabric smelled earthy with a hint of something distinctly Solas.

  “Ahem.” Senna froze. _Shit_. She slowly turned her face towards Solas, who was sitting up in his chair and straightening the sleeves on his green undershirt.

  “I believe you have something of mine.” The corner of Solas’s mouth turned up slightly.

  Senna snorted. “Actually, I think I’m going to keep it. It’s a little too big, but hey,” she shrugged, “it’s comfortable.” She began to back up slowly toward the door.

  “ _Da’len_ ,” he chided, starting to rise, “I need that.”

  She grinned and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. “It’s not as if you’re indecent without it.” He began to move toward her then, but Senna turned on her heel and sprinted for the door, calling out over her shoulder, “Sorry _vhenan_ , but your sweater has been requisitioned for the use of the Inquisition!”

  She heard a strangled “Inquisitor!” as he started to chase after her into the main hall. The room was being set up for a banquet later in the evening, so Senna had to dodge the servants rushing about. Eventually she leaped onto the table and began to run down its length. There were startled “oh!”s and “my lady!”s rising up from the sea of servants. _Josephine would kill me if she saw this_. Chancing a look over her shoulder, she saw Solas furiously wading through the servants, his face and ears a bright shade of red. Despite the extra barriers, he seemed to be gaining on her.

  Senna finally came to the end of the long table and sprang off, shooting finger-guns at Varric as she took off into the kitchens. Varric’s laughter echoed behind her as she slammed the door and quickly used her magic to cast a weak barrier over it. The cook was busy preparing for the banquet and gave her a withering look for causing a commotion in their kitchen.

  She was in the middle of her apology when a loud thud came from the door, so she blurted out “ _Ir abelas_!” and sprinted outside. She jumped off the staircase, not wanting to waste any time, and headed for the tavern. The morning air was brisk, and it was still quite early, but there were some people milling about Skyhold that got the opportunity to see their heroic Inquisitor sprinting as hard as she could away from a half-dressed bald elf cursing in Elvhen. Unfortunately, Solas was fast. _Unnaturally_ fast. In other words, he cheated.

  Senna skidded to a stop just outside of the tavern, breathing hard, as Solas fade-stepped in front of her and crossed his arms.

  “It is not polite to steal, _da’len_ ,” Solas said, his voice deep and breathy from the chase. He looked down at her disapprovingly, but Senna thought she saw a glimmer of amusement in his grey-blue eyes.

  “You cheated,” she whined, sticking her tongue out like a child. “You can’t use magic just because you’re old and slow.” He began to circle her now, crossing his arms behind his back, unfazed by her insult.

  “Did you not use magic to block the door to the kitchen?” he asked, smug. “I was not aware that rules only applied to me.”

  He was getting closer now, and Senna began to fear that her new favorite article of clothing was soon to be taken from her. She glanced around desperately and saw the staircase leading back into the main hall at her back. It was a risky plan, as Solas was now close enough to grab her, but she suddenly raised up her thin arms and pushed him with all of her might. Solas stumbled back in surprise, but quickly recovered as Senna sprinted away from him yet again.

  Varric held out a hand and high-fived Senna as she rushed by, heading into the rotunda once more and sprinting up the spiral staircase. At the top she ran into Dorian, who had an armful of books. “ _Kaffas_!” he cursed, bending over to pick up a book but immediately snatching his hand back as Solas came bounding by. “Elves, I swear…”

  Senna couldn’t help but laugh gleefully at Dorian’s expense, shouting out “Sorry!” as she tore her way up the last staircase into Leliana’s rookery. She watched the top of Solas’s head emerge from the stairs and decided to run out the door that lead to the roof… where she immediately became trapped. She ran a short distance along the curve of the roof, but the door was the only plausible way to go, and _he_ was blocking it. Solas slowly stepped through, knowing that he had her cornered. He cast a barrier over the door behind him so that she couldn’t somehow get around him and escape.

  “Are you ready to give up this game, _da’len_?” he said, smiling broadly. He took a few languid steps in her direction, causing her to back up against the edge of the roof. “You have nowhere left to run.”

  She glanced behind her, and inspiration struck. “That’s what you think.” She blew a kiss in his direction, and, with her blood roaring in her ears from exhilaration, jumped straight off of the roof toward the small walkway below. Summoning her mana, Senna cast a modified fade-step to propel her at an angle toward the walkway. With a great deal of luck, she hit the stone in a forward roll and managed to spring onto her feet unharmed.

  Giggling madly, her face reddened from the wind, she turned around to shout, “Guess I win, seeing as a _hahren_ like you could never pull that off!” She stopped laughing suddenly as she realized that Solas was no longer on the roof of the rookery. “Wha-”

  Senna was slammed into the battlements, her breath stolen from her as Solas’s body pressed up against her, his hands on either side of her head. “That is quite enough teasing for one day,” he murmured, lowering his head to brush his lips against her ear. Her cheeks burned as he placed kisses along her jaw. She clutched at his undershirt as he finally arrived at her mouth, kissing her with a hunger. His tongue traced her bottom lip, slowly memorizing the shape of her mouth.

  He finally pulled away, and she could only catch her breath, lips parted slightly.

  “I have bested you at your own game, _vhenan_ , and now I intend to claim my prize.” He leaned back in, an intense look on his face, and Senna squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation. Seizing the opportunity, Solas quickly yanked his sweater off of her and slid it over his head, smirking at her shocked expression. “Solas!” she started to protest, but he silenced her with another kiss, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her against his body.

  “My sweater was only part of the prize, _emma lath_.”

  Suddenly she was fine with losing his sweater. And the rest of her clothes, too.


End file.
